


Get Higher

by tomhiddlesbitch



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-08
Updated: 2013-02-08
Packaged: 2017-11-28 15:44:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/676096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tomhiddlesbitch/pseuds/tomhiddlesbitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU where Dean is a traveling salesman, sometimes being away for weeks at a time. </p><p>From a prompt: AU where Dean and Cas are together but they’re away from each other a lot, so when they are reunited, it’s the best they’ve ever had. Song: "Come On Get Higher” by Matt Nathanson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Get Higher

_I miss the rush of your skin._

Castiel grudgingly pulled himself out of bed when he heard the familiar ring of an incoming Skype call on his computer. He shrugged on a bathrobe, and sat down into the large office chair in front of the too-big Mac computer. He clicked the answer button and a tired, unhappy man appeared on his screen. When Castiel came clearly onto the screen, the frown on the other man’s face disappeared and a wide grin materialized onto his face.    

“I can tell by the grey speckled wall behind you that you are yet again, in an airport.” Cas tried to sound enthusiastic, but airports are as un-enthusiastic as it gets.

“Yeah,” The man flashed a toothy grin, “I have to go to Portland after this. Sorry, baby.” His voice was apologetic, his sad bottle green eyes looking straight into the camera. Cas wanted nothing more than to hold him. He wanted the trips to stop, he just wanted Dean home safe. Cas missed him, it had been over three weeks since the last time he touched him, since he’d felt Dean’s strong embrace.

Cas looked back towards the screen, where Dean was smiling and telling his fiancé about what he had done yesterday and what today looked like. Meetings, meetings, and then more meetings. That’s all Dean ever did; he was the energizer bunny personified.

Cas knew better than to take Dean’s cheeriness at face value. Even through the grainy pixelated screen, Castiel could see the small bags Dean was trying so hard to hide. He could see the permanent look of tiredness in the increasing amount of stress lines forming on his skin. But then again, he was smiling; actually, he was practically beaming. Cas couldn’t help but grin in response.

“After Portland, I should be coming home." Dean’s smile doubled in size as he relayed the information.

Cas could not help but smile back. "That's great!" As Castiel looked back to the screen, where Dean just smiled at him, he felt a strong pang in his chest. He loved Dean. He loved him more than he loved life itself. Cas knew that Dean loved him just as much, maybe even more. He realized that it did not matter if Dean was away for a year or for a day: Castiel would love him then as much as he does now.

Cas's love is indestructible.

There was an undistinguishable voice on the other end of the call, and Dean looked up. “They just called my section. I’ve gotta go, I’ll talk to you when I land.” he grumbled, placing his laptop onto the ground in front of him and collecting his things. “Love you, babe.”

“Love you too. I will see you soon,” Cas replied with a small curl of his lip. There was a click, a brief view of Dean’s face, and the screen went blank. Cas stared at the screen for a few seconds, unable to remember what he was supposed to do next.  He smiled absently at the screen, dumbfounded at how he came to find someone as amazing as Dean.

They had met at a bar, which was unusual in and of itself because Cas never went to bars. Dean always manages to find them, though. Cas suspects he has a GPS locater implanted in his brain, used solely for finding a bar. There was so much Cas could say about him. So many incredible things...he could go on for hours. The way he laughs, the way he acts when he’s sick (Dean turns into a five-year-old and demands mothering). The way he will do anything to keep him and Cas together, even if it means punching a guy square in the jaw if he whispers something untoward under his breath.

Cas shook himself out of his reverie; he was still staring at the blank Skype screen, at old conversations from days before.  He let out a sigh and felt a flutter in his heart - the day was fast approaching that he would be with the one person in the world who had not yet given up on him.

_Just pull me down hard and drown me in love_

***        

Cas sat in his small cubicle, computer screen open to a half-finished spreadsheet, phone close at hand in hopes that Dean would call him (hopefully) to report he had reached Portland safely and was on the way to meet his next client. The call didn’t come, and Cas was on eggshells all day long. He’d sent a couple text messages, but Dean couldn’t receive them until he landed and switched his phone back on. Cas pushed the negative thoughts aside, did not let it worry him. Nothing was wrong, he reassured himself. Dean’s flown tons of times before, nothing’s wrong. Nothing’s wrong. At the end of the work day, Castiel felt his phone buzz at 6:30.

**At the hotel. Waiting for you.**

**-Dean**

Cas smiled to himself, picked up his dinner - pizza again - and walked toward their bedroom. He sat down at his desk beneath the window and woke up the computer, clicking the Skype icon as soon as the screen came alive. A small green bubble came on next to Dean’s name as the computer came online, and he clicked ‘video call’ and watched as the program dialed out.       

The video box came up on the screen and Cas turned on his camera. Dean’s video popped up, he looked beat, as usual. His eyes were drooping and slightly bloodshot - from being awake for so long, Cas suspected. The jet lag must be catching up to him.

“I’m not gonna stay on very long, Cas. I’m tired.” Dean’s face bled disappointment; he just wanted to make Cas happy.

 “It’s...that’s okay, Dean. I would prefer you go and sleep. You need it.” He tried to give him a small smile, but he could only manage a quick smirk before it fell off his face. “Good night, Dean. I love you.”

“Yeah, love you too,” Dean replied as he rubbed at his eyes, struggling to stay awake.

“Go sleep, now,” Cas demanded quietly.

“Fine, fine, I’m going,” Dean grumbled. He got up and walked away, forgetting to hang up the call. Cas watched as Dean unzipped his suitcase before stripping off his dress shirt, his shoes, and his pants. He slipped on fresh boxer shorts and a t-shirt. Cas smiled as his fiancé crawled into the bed.         

“Good night,” Cas called softly, but Dean had turned off the light and was already drifting off to sleep. Cas hung up the call and finished his meal in silence.

_If I could tell you what’s next_

*** 

A few days later, Castiel awoke to a small vibration. He smacked his hand out, feeling for his phone on the other side of the bed. He picked it up and the screen was bright, showing one new text message from Dean. He tossed the phone down without reading it, rubbing at his face with both hands. He looked over - the digital clock on their bedside table read 4:27.

Cas let out a sigh and sat up in his empty bed. He could see the impression Dean’s body had left in their mattress, could smell the cheap cologne emanating from the pillow. Cas reached once again for his phone.

**4:27 A.M.**

**I’m on my way to my last meeting. I probably won’t call you until I land back in Kansas. My plane takes off at 7 a.m.**

**See you soon.**

**\- Dean**

Cas heaved another sigh. He could feel the butterflies in his stomach starting to form. He felt like a teenage boy, waiting for his date to arrive. He read the text one more time, staring at the screen as a slow smile crept across his face.

He wanted to go back to sleep, the outside world was still black and cold. He tossed the phone back on the mattress and slid under the covers, smirk still plastered on his face. He closed his eyes and thought of Dean - Dean’s arms when he held Cas, shielding him from jeers and taunts from harsh strangers; Dean’s eyes, that piercing green that seemed to look through him, making his heart skip a beat, making the world around him dissolve into nothingness, making the blood boil under his skin and rush to his head.

If someone asked, Cas probably could not explain why he’s in love with Dean. He might respond and say that it’s because he’s kind, or funny, or handsome, but those aren’t the real reasons. The real reason is that Cas cannot imagine his life with anyone else. They’re more than just in love, Dean and Cas, they’re two halves of a whole. Neither is complete unless the other is there by their side.

_And I ache to remember, all the violent, sweet, perfect words that you said_

Things weren’t perfect, of course. Dean had a temper on him. They would fight, and Dean would flee. He was quick that way, not one for staying and trying to talk things out. He kept things inside, ignoring them until they rotted and came spilling out of his mouth. Should Castiel try to talk about important things - Dean’s drinking, reckless behavior, trying to work through things so they’d be better in the long run - Dean would all but stick his fingers in his ears and sing.  He would say he would try and do better, but the words were empty.                

Cas only wanted good things for Dean - why wouldn’t he? Cas loved him. He loved Dean so much it ached. His bones would strain and his heart would race, his eyes would burn and his nose stiffen. Cas’s body had grown accustomed to the constant nurturing and love he received from Dean. Without it, Cas felt sick. Loneliness crept up on him when he least expected it. He’d be sitting at his desk at the office, filling out an invoice, and it would hit him hard - the realization that he hadn’t seen the only person who cared about him in...how many weeks was it now? Three? A long time, anyhow. Cas would rest his head in his hands and take a few deep breaths, remind himself that Dean was coming home soon, and all this _bullshit_ with the traveling would be over.

As much as he wanted to believe that, Cas knew it was a lie. Dean would not stop working forever; he would come home and then in a few weeks he would be off again. Cas would once again lose his grasp on Dean, and off he would go, to track down some client in the middle of nowhere. Dean just could not stay in one place for too long, he would get fidgety and need to pack up his things and just _go_. Just like when he got mad and left. Cas could not stop him. It was just...Dean. That is how he was, impulsive and reckless. But at the same time, he thought things through, he’d think things through until they were nothing but small threads of the truth and the rest was tossed away, fabricated lies he’d created in his head. That was what he did when he left, worked things out on his own. Always.

That’s how Dean’s mind worked, he couldn’t help it. Cas tried not to think about how broken Dean was, how bruised and battered he had become in his lifetime. Cas knew he had not had it easy growing up, but Dean. Dean did not go into detail. “Parent problems.” “Dad was a drunk.” Cas knew it was much more than that.

Though all these things should have kept them apart - their family, the lives they lived, their personalities - Cas and Dean could not stay away from each other. They were drawn together like magnets - opposites do attract. The usually quiet and kind Castiel, and the loud and loving Dean. They just...fit. 

***

The alarm blared loud through their three-bedroom apartment at 8 a.m. sharp, the shrill electronic beeping filling the empty halls. Cas grumbled and hit the snooze button, no intent on getting up anytime soon, even if he did work today. This was the best day he’d seen in a while - the day Dean was coming home. Cas reached over to the pillow beside him and fished around for his phone. He pulled it towards himself, the sheets slipping off his body. The cold of the apartment sent a chill down his spine, the warmth of the bed replaced as the sheets were displaced. Cas dragged himself out of bed and into the bathroom, turning on the hot water before shedding his clothes and stepping inside the shower. He let the hot water run down his back, warming him and soothing his mind. He let his thoughts wander for a few moments - what if something happened to Dean? - but he shook his head, snapped out of it, and finished his shower.

Cas wrapped a towel around his waist and walked back out into the bedroom. He switched on their too-large television and clicked to the local news station.

_“Good morning Douglas county! Today is Sunday, March 9th, 2013...”_

The news anchor droned on in the background as Castiel moved to the closet and pulled out a jacket, shirt, and dress pants. He pulled on his clothes as the news anchor detailed a story about a baby panda born in some national zoo, but Cas wasn’t paying attention. Until...

_“In other news, a plane crashed in Colorado this morning...”_

Cas whipped his head around, mind running a thousand miles a minute. He couldn’t help but think of the worst. What if that was Dean’s plane?

_“The flight departed from Portland, Oregon, and was bound for descent into Topeka, Kansas, when it was hit by a bird strike...”_

Cas’s stomach dropped. It couldn’t be Dean’s flight, he was on another plane. Certainly, there was another flight leaving Portland and arriving in Topeka today...

_“Flight 427 crash landed at 7 a.m., just one hour into the flight. Multiple casualties were sustained, and several serious injuries...”_

Cas’s mind went blank. That was Dean’s plane.

Cas felt queasy, as though his head was spinning circles on his neck. Tears clouded his vision. Dean. He could be dead. He sat down on the bed, head in his hands. He shook himself. No. Not Dean. Anyone but Dean. Dean was safe. Dean might be dead. No. He isn’t dead. Dean isn’t dead.

Cas lifted his head, hands wet with tears. His nose dripped and his cheeks were red, he was sure. He rubbed at his eyes to try and stop the tears flowing. If Dean were...crying wouldn’t bring him back. Crying only lost you respect.

Cas slowly stood up, walked to the TV and turned it off. He stood in front of the blank screen, shell-shocked, incapable of moving further. He could not think. The gears stopped working, walls were crashing around him. His vision was going blank, he could not feel his appendages, he was numb, everything was numb. There was nothing. Nothing mattered anymore.

There was nothing left for Cas. Dean was his reason to live. Without him, Castiel was empty, a shell.

Nothing worth anything.

_Come on get higher_

***

Cas didn’t go to work that day. He sat, staring at his phone, hoping for Dean to call.

Dead men don’t use phones. 

***

_6 hours later_

Cas did not try calling. He didn’t want to hear his voicemail, his voice. That was not something he needed right now. He needed to separate himself from Dean, to get away.

Castiel reached for his phone, cracked across the screen from when he has heaved it against the wall earlier. It matched his heart, he thought. Matched the crack in the universe. An apocalypse would have been better, he thought, that way both of them would’ve died, not just one and left the other half of a whole, alone. Cas considered calling Dean’s brother - Sam? Sam. - but he didn’t want to, not yet. Holding out hope. Just in case. That was the single shred of hope Cas held onto, that Dean was one of the injured, and not one of the dead.

Cas stared at his cell phone, Dean’s contact information shining up at him in the darkness of their - _his_ \- bedroom, curtains drawn, lights off, television loud. He muted the sound, and called Dean.

The tone rang, and rang, and rang.

A click at the end of the line. Voicemail.

_“Hey, you’ve reached Dean Winchester. Leave a message and I’ll call you back. If it’s an emergency, call Castiel.”_

The line clicked dead, and the instructions for leaving a message started to play. Instead of hanging up, Cas waited for the beep. “Dean...” his voice cracked. “Dean, please. I need to know if you are okay. I want - I need to know if you are gone, or if you are hurt. Please, Dean.” Cas’s voice broke in a sob. “I love you so much. Just please, let me hear you say you love me just...one last time. Please,” His voice pleading, Cas took in a deep breath before continuing, “Goodbye, Dean.”

Cas pressed the ‘end’ button and sat in silence, the phone going dark. The colors of the TV danced across the walls around him, throwing the room into an obscure blend of bright colored light. Colors didn’t fit the mood, but Cas left the TV on anyways.

If he thought hard enough, Cas could still remember Dean’s warm touch. His calloused, strong hands, pulling him into his chest, shielding him from the rest of the world. Protecting him from harm’s way.

Cas could not think that hard anymore.

Dean’s voice was starting to disappear from his mind, the piercing green of his eyes becoming softer, duller. Dean was fading away. As much as Cas wanted to hold onto his memories of Dean, the only thing he could call to mind was a horrid image; Dean’s mangled body being pulled from the wreckage of the crash. Limp and lifeless, eyes open but dull. Drenched in his own blood. The person who found him would have held his hand, checked his neck for a pulse, called out to the person in charge that there was another casualty, another death to add to the tally. They might have stared at his body, wondered if he had a wife and kids at home. Maybe they would cry at the sight of another dead body in front of them.

The images were too much. Cas stumbled to the bathroom, vision blurred and wet, and collapsed next to the toilet. He waited for the vomit to come, spill out of his mouth and turn the clear water murky. His stomach convulsing inside him, trying to make him throw up. Cas leaned over the toilet and some unused stomach fluids came and spilled into the toilet below. It burned his throat as it came out of his mouth, dripping into the porcelain bowl. He was empty. He clutched the cool porcelain and let the tears fall.

Cas slid down onto the floor, back propped against the wall, and rested his head in his hands. Tears rolled from his eyes and wetted his shirt collar. What now? What next? No, stop, don’t think about that yet. Too much, too soon. Cas clung onto Dean with his life, with his heart.

Cas never really let it show, but he did have a past, one he wasn’t too proud of. Dean didn’t care. He pushed it aside, only letting his love through. That might be one reason Cas loves - _loved_ \- him so much. Dean did not worry about the past, he only looked to the future. He did hold grudges - oh, did he hold his grudges. But he also forgave, letting the hate ebb away when someone did something good. Cas could see it, could see Dean’s face light up when he was happy.

Cas couldn’t let that go. He didn’t _want_ to let that go. It was too soon. He ran his hands through, a failed attempt to calm himself. He looked at the clock on the bathroom wall - 3:30. If Dean’s plane was still...still...

Castiel stopped himself there. He didn’t want to think about what-might-have-been. What would’ve happened if Dean was still alive.

Slowly, he lifted his head, straightened his back. He lowered his hands to the cold tile floor, one by one, and balanced himself sloppily as he stood. He steadied himself against the wall and cabinet, clutching onto them for dear life. He gradually dragged himself back to the bed, where his work shoes and tie were still laid out from his aborted morning routine. Cas looked at his phone, unmoved from its place on the pillow. Should he call again? One more time...just to hear Dean’s hollow, staticky voice? One last time...

No. This had happened before, he’d fallen victim to his urges. He needed to fight them. He couldn’t succumb to these...childish needs. Cas reached for his phone, to check the time. The phone’s screen lit up.

**NEW VOICEMAIL - DEAN**

The phone dropped to the mattress.

“This...no. This can’t be happening,” he stuttered, reaching for the fallen phone. He stared at it, turned it over in his hands, lit the screen once more. The same message showed. It wasn’t a dream. He needed to - Dean was alive, alive enough to call him. He dialed the number for his voicemail and punched his passcode impatiently.

“You have one new message,” the canned voice stated.

“Come on, come on,” he breathed, and Dean’s voice started to play.

“Cas? What are you talking about? I’m fine. I had a meeting at the last minute, I didn’t call ‘cause I figured you were already at work. I got a later flight, I’m at the airport now...what’s going on? There’s a lot of people running around. Anyhow, I’ll be in around six thirty tonight. I’ll see you then.”

Cas played the message again, and then once more, then again, commuting the message to memory. Tears of relief dropping from his eyes. Dean was safe. He was more than safe, he was alive.

A grin broke across Castiel’s face, wider than he had ever smiled before. He looked at his phone, practically glowing with relief. Dean was okay, he was going to be home in Cas’s arms in a few hours. Dean was going to be _home._ Home, where he could not be hurt. Home, where Cas was never going to let him leave again.

He fought the urge to toss some reading material in a bag and head to the airport already, to wait for Dean at his terminal. Instead, he reached once more for his phone, dialing Dean’s number. It went to voicemail, as expected. _Beep._ “Dean, I am sorry that I called and left you that message. I will explain to you when you land. I love you, I love you so much, and I’ll see you soon.”

He was leaving a message for Dean, his fiancé, his true love, his life partner, his everything, _his Dean._ Something that, a few minutes before, he never thought he’d do again. Cas felt tears swelling in his eyes again, one fat drop rolling down his right cheek. His face hurt, his eyes dry and red from crying. He probably looked like a mess. Still grinning widely, Cas walked back into the bathroom, where just minutes ago he’d been grieving for his lost love.Just minutes ago, he thought he was never going to see Dean again. _Minutes._ Time seemed to have slowed down in those three minutes, _then_ and _now._

Castiel looked into the brightly lit mirror, and could not help but gasp. The disheveled, broken man in the mirror was not Cas, it was a man who obviously had nothing to live for. Bloodshot eyes, face redder than a tomato and blotchy, hair a tangled mess. The man looked devastated but hopeful, like there was some bright beacon of happiness in his miserable life. That man was not Cas. Cas was happy, he had his entire life in front of him. A life with Dean. Obviously, the mirror was showing the man he was a few minutes ago, not the man he was now. He chuckled darkly at the thought running through his head. He was nothing like the man the mirror showed. He could only imagine what life would be like if he felt like he looked for the rest of his life.

How would Dean have reacted if he had been put through this kind of torture? Would he have worried as much, cried as much as Cas had? Dean was not the worrying type, he would have bottled it up until the pressure became too much and he exploded. He was just that kind of person. Right now, Cas did not care. Cas accepted him for his faults, for the faults they each had and still managed to make each other whole.

None of the past mattered now. Now was only today, and tomorrow was tomorrow. Dean didn’t realize it, but their life together had just changed. Cas loved him more than he has ever loved another person. They both already knew that, but things were more solid now.

It was set in stone.

_'Cause everything works, love, everything works in your arms_

_***_

Castiel stood still among the rush of people passing by him. Blurred faces, children screaming, greetings of old friends, strong embraces from lovers long separated. Airports aren’t just grey-walled buildings; there are _memories_ in those walls. Memories of places and times when long-lost friends met, where journeys began, where journeys ended. So many of the important things in life happen in airports.

This was one of those times.

A smile plastered helplessly to his face, Castiel imagined how he’d react when Dean appeared. Questions whirled through his mind, scratching at his skull, begging to be posed to whoever passed by. He kept them safe inside, standing alone, too anxious to sit twiddling his thumbs.

Cas watched as people passed him by, hurrying to reach their destination, to see missed children, to hug spouses. Cas wanted nothing more than to have people stop and stare, to see his passion and his love. This was...strange. This was new. Cas was not one to display his emotions proudly, to let the world into his small private life. But not today. Today, he wanted the entire world to know just how much he cared for Dean Winchester. How he would go through literal hell to be with the man he loves. The world, the whole of creation, needed to know. Castiel was on a sinking ship, and Dean was there to save him from the wreckage.

Cas pulled his phone from his pocket once again, for the fourth time in twenty minutes, to see if Dean had called or texted and he had missed it. He hadn’t. He sighed, unlocked the phone, and started flicking through his photos. He thumbed through the albums until he came across one that was just pictures of himself and Dean. He tapped it open, pressed the first picture. He slowly flipped through the album, pictures from years ago and getting progressively newer, moving from acquaintances to friends to best friends to lovers. That tends to happen, falling in love with your best friend.

He moved through the set of pictures, pausing a few seconds longer on the more memorable ones. The picture of their first date. The dinner where Cas had introduced Dean to the rest of his family. The day they’d bought their apartment. The day Dean had proposed to him...Cas stared at that one for a while. His sister, Anna, had snapped the photo as soon as Dean dropped to one knee. He zoomed in on his own face. Cas could see the glimmer of a pixelated tear rolling down his face. He could feel his eyes watering, could feel his mouth stretch into a stupidly wide smile.

Castiel glanced up, scanning his surroundings to see if Dean had yet appeared at the terminal exit. Not yet. He looked back down at his phone, thumbing through the rest of the album. The last picture was taken just a few days before Dean had left for this trip. His face was clean-shaven, but his eyes looked sad. Dean had known he wouldn’t be back for a while; his smile said he was excited, but his eyes said otherwise. Cas sighed. He didn’t want to look at pictures anymore. He was tired of the digital Dean - he wanted the real thing.

A growing shadow moved across Castiel’s back, towering over him. “Cas?” the rough voice spoke and a heavy, calloused hand landed on Cas’s shoulder.

Castiel’s head jerked up, his eyes still on the phone. He knew that voice. He spun around, dropping the phone with a clatter. The world around him blended together, everything slowed to a crawl.

Dean was here.

The suitcase fell from Dean’s grip, landing on the floor and freeing his arms to sit on Cas’s shoulders. His bright green eyes were wet as they locked onto Cas’s, and a smile split his features. He pulled Castiel close, wrapping his arms around the shorter man’s shoulders and enclosing him in the scent of his aftershave. Letting his warm embrace heat him to his very core.

“Dean,” Castiel breathed into his lover’s worn t-shirt, feeling happy tears drop from his eyes. “I thought I was n-never going to see...see you again.” His breath left his lungs in a gush, and he drew in a deep breath, taking control of his emotions as he clutched hopelessly to his fiancé.

Dean squeezed him once, and pulled back to look at Cas’s face. “Why would...Cas, why would you say that? I was always coming back. I’m right here for you, baby.”

“Your flight - it went - you were supposed to be on it. I thought...I thought you were on the plane that crashed, and-”

Dean cut him off. “Oh, shut up.” He pulled Cas close once again, and tipped his head down to catch Cas’s lips in a kiss. Their worlds entwined once more, seamlessly coming back together as one. Cas kissed Dean back with force, pushing himself up onto the other man and wrapping his arms around Dean’s neck. Dean’s hands slid from his shoulders down to his hips, pulling him closer. Castiel responded in kind and kissed him harder, but it was broken with a sigh. Dean laughed. “I don’t think the people around us want to see this,” he chuckled, rubbing a hand against Castiel’s back. His eyes roved around Castiel’s face, taking in his red-rimmed eyes and tousled hair. The pure perfection that was Cas. “Let’s go home,” he whispered into Cas’s ear, a smile on his face.

Cas looked back at him and flashed a toothy grin, leaning in to kiss Dean once more - short, sweet, seductive - letting his tongue drag over his lips for a small second. He turned on his heel, retrieved his dropped phone, and lifted Dean’s luggage. He slid the phone into his pocket, his hand into Dean’s empty hand, and his heart back into Dean’s chest, where it belonged. Hand in hand, they walked out of the airport. Dean was home, he was safe, and Cas would never be alone again.

_Come on get higher, loosen my lips, faith and desire and the swing of your hips, just pull me down hard and drown me in love._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading :) Also thank you so much to my wonderful beta annabagnell! im going to be a little annoying but go check out my other works too i will love you forever if you do uwu *kisses face* 
> 
> also, if you think that any of the timing (wow it was a real bitch to try and get it right with time zones and no internet) is wrong, please, PLEASE, tell me and i will fix it.


End file.
